Green Eyes, Black Heart
by poplarleaves
Summary: Seven months, seven years. Shattered, Drew watches as May falls in love with another.
1. Eyes

**_Drew_**

There she was. I caught my breath at the nymph who stood at the door. She hung onto Brendan's arm, smiling, laughing with him. Her auburn tresses hung over her bare shoulders, down her back, hugging her neck where a silver-chained pendant hung. A garnet was set into the pendant. Brendan's gift.

"Drew." My sister, Catherine, touched my arm. I started. She watched me as I shook my head at my idiocy. Who was I kidding? May was happy with Brendan and I didn't have any right to interfere. I slammed my drink down on the table, creating a shallow gouge in its wood.

"Drew," Catherine said again, voice firm, "it's no use. You can watch her all you want, but she won't look at you the way she looks at him."

I didn't answer. My eyes strayed from my drink to May again. In vain I tried to rub away the cup-shaped groove on the table.

"Look at those lights," Catherine said of the gaudy chandeliers, trying to lighten my mood. "Aren't they pretty? I heard that Brendan rented this place out just for May's birthday."

"I don't care." My chair screeched on the floor as I pushed it back viciously, turning and stumbling out of the room. Puzzled eyes watched me, eyes that knew nothing about me, about how I had loved her, about what tore at my soul. A dozen hands tried to stop me, mouths whispered reprimands, but I slammed the door behind me.

The hallway was silent, echoing my blank thoughts and my rasped breathing. The sound was loud, too loud. I tried to breathe slowly, but my wild thoughts kept me from calming.

"Gods... Ho-oh..."

My head sagged to my chest. What an idiot I've been, I thought bleakly. All this time... seven months... and I still hadn't gotten over her. Sure, Brendan was popular and rich, and he had matured, but...

_He didn't deserve her._

"No, no..." I buried my face in my hands. "God... I can't do it!" My fist pounded the wall.

"Drew!"

I groaned. "Go away, Cath."

I heard, with a sinking heart, her footsteps coming closer until they halted in front of me, loud, defiant as the look on her face. Whenever my sister was like this, I knew I was in for it.

"Go back in," she ordered.

"No."

"Go!"

"No." I turned to walk down the hall, but she caught my wrist and wrenched me around to face the door again.

"Go. You don't want her to see you like this, do you?" she coaxed gently. I shook my head and tried to pull away. Her grip only hardened with her voice. "Go. There's no use staying in your room and angsting about it."

"I can't look at her."

But Cath had already dragged me into the room and sat me down again. Something burned and smoldered inside me as I watched, emotionless, the crowd that gave me their glances and turned away, the bright lights, the girl who danced away in the middle of the room and never knew whose heart she had stolen, broken. I watched when Brandon held her close and whispered in her ear, the secret smiles and hidden laughter.

There she was. The elusive nymph, the whispering wind, the heart and soul of living fire. The one in my dreams, the girl that I had wanted for seven years. There she was, in the arms of another.

There she was.

* * *

From the Authoress:  
I realized that Gary's character in this story would fit more with Brendan (you know, that guy in Sapphire and Ruby who never shows up in the anime), so I changed the story to fit him. He's a character with no distinct personality since he shows up so little, so I can do just what I want with him! (gRin gRin)


	2. Heart

Heart

* * *

**_May_**

The party was amazing. Of course, Ash had the biggest appetite, as usual. Even Misty had to stop being embarassed about him and laugh. I don't blame him for eating so much; Brock's cooking is too good to resist! He always manages to whip up the best dinners ever, no matter how busy he is.

Even some of our other friends from Sinnoh and Kanto managed to visit. Dawn came in with a most gorgeous dress _ever_, and everyone practically drooled over it. I think she managed to catch some of the male attentions in the room, as well. And even Ash's mom and Professor Oak came! Some of Dad's colleagues (aka gym leaders) dropped in to say a few words, too. It was just so nostalgic, seeing everyone there.

As for Brendan, he gave me a garnet necklace as a birthday present. The stone is a deep, blood red. It's so big that it's almost vulgar! He always gives me really conspicuous jewelry no matter what I say, but I wear it anyways, just to humor him. He can be so sweet sometimes, though I wish he had more backbone. He cares too much about what people think of him, and he has a tendency to only do things when he knows that other people are doing it as well. A crowd-pleaser. Still, he's hot. And he's better than he was before, at least. We haven't had much trouble with each other for the seven months we've been dating.

The only problem is... Drew. I don't know, but I have the strangest feeling that he's always watching me. Whenever I see him, a shiver goes down my spine. Drew might be smiling or he might be sulking, but every time, he's always looking my way. When he talks to someone else, I feel his eyes on me: those pale green eyes, sharp and clear, the color of pure envy. When I walk into the room, his... his aura... seems to darken and grow.

And it's gotten worse. He keeps leaving the room right after I come into it... with Brendan, that is. Catherine had to drag him back in last time, and he just sat there and, and... Well, he watched me with that strange look in his eyes. It feels like he's peeling away every layer of my mind until it's laid bare, defenseless, weakened and shivering and under his control. Then I turn away, breaking it, and he begins the process over again. God... he knows me too well. He knows how to lure me, to ensnare me like a struggling bird; he knows my thoughts and my weaknesses. These seven years have been too long.

Why? Why does he do this? Why is he so intent on ruining what should be the best time of my life? I like Brendan and he likes me. It's not fair if Drew's acting like a selfish bastard. I know I should say something to him. I should, right? But I can't do it and watch him die. Doesn't he think about anyone else at all? Why can't he just _leave me alone_?

I don't want to see him anymore. I can't stand having him in the same room anymore, watching, _watching_, watching my every single move. There must be a limit to how much I can stand. Someday I'll tell him. Someday, he's got to pass the line.

Someday, he'll know that I don't care.


	3. Arms

Arms

* * *

**_Drew_**

Life has blank pages where you stare and stare at the perfect whiteness, and you can think of everything to write but have no way to write it. You can hear the music, see the words, feel the emotions coming through, but it's all just what it is, unmarred and untransferrable to human comprehension. She's always done this to me. When I look at her, I see endless possibilities, and my mind is only a page, a shadow that waits for light to touch it and make it reality.

Perhaps that's why I did what I did. Maybe I couldn't stand it anymore, maybe it was all a fluke of destiny, but I know... I feel as if I shouldn't have. I don't know anymore.

After the party, I had managed to escape from Catherine's clutches and into the dim hallways. At last I was alone. Glancing

I strode on past her, resolute, trying to keep myself from turning and falling and crying at her feet.

That is, until she turned back and grabbed my shoulder. A thrill ran through me.

"Drew."

Was that anxiety in her voice? Was it anguish hidden in those folds of sound?

"_Drew_."

No, I couldn't look back. I tugged away resignedly, but she held on.

"_Drew_!"

"What?" I shouted back at her, shaking off her hand. "Don't bother me."

May laughed a high, brittle laugh, drier than bark and sun-blown dirt. "Me? Bothering _you_? What do you think_ you've _been doing to me all this time?"

I stared at her. "What did I ever do?"

"You're asking me? You're asking me when you've looked at me _that way_ ever since the first time that... that I showed any interest in Brendan."

She had known? When had she ever seen me stealing glances, turning my head ever so slightly, watching out of the corner of my eyes? Was it only Catherine and May? Or had everyone else seen the blatant refusals of truth in my eyes?

May was crying.

Gods, what an idiot I'd been.

"May."

Sobbing. She covered her face with her hands.

"_May_."

She continued crying, each sob shaking her fragile frame. I took a step forward, then stopped. I couldn't do it. I couldn't. She wasn't mine to hold, to comfort anymore. But... I battled with myself. I couldn't leave her like this.

Slowly, gently, I let my body move into the position that I had known for so long: the one that I had abandoned seven months ago. May did the same. Her will to fight was gone, shredded into tears that wet my shirt and somehow stained my black heart red again. I laid my cheek on her head and felt her cling closer, fingers entangled in my shirt in an almost painfully familiar way. One hand moved to the nape of her neck, the other to her back. I almost felt her heart beat against mine.

"May?" The voice came not from me, but from the end of the hall. I stumbled apart from her. She stood there looking dazed, her face a mess, her eyes reddened with tears, but somehow still beautiful.

"May!"

The figure at the end of the hallway came running toward us, his dark hair becoming clearly defined under the flourescent lights. A chill went through me that I was sure went through May as well. A few feet from us, Brendan halted.

"May?" he said again.

May gave him a stiff, cordial nod. Brendan had the strangest look on his face, as if he'd swallowed a Magikarp whole. Evidently he was still trying to make sense of what he had seen.

Turning to May, he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yes."

I watched as she let him slip his arm around her waist in the way I had done once before, and the only thing I could do was to watch.


	4. Lips

Lips

* * *

**_May_**

Drew is such an _idiot._ I can't believe that he would do something as... as rash, as stupid as that. _God_. He's a loser and an idiot and a freaking psycho to think that I would still feel something for him, that he could just get away with something like that.

I don't have any feelings for him anymore. I don't, I don't.

Then why is it that I think of him, and him only, when I look into Brendan's eyes?

He's haunting me in my every thought, every word, every touch and look. I can't look at one without seeing the other. It's so _stupid_ and I don't understand why I can't make myself think straight when he gets close to me and I know that Brendan is so much sweeter and understanding and _not so stupid_.

_God._

Brendan knows, or at least some part of it. He's given me strange looks, held me more tightly when _he_ enters the room, until I can almost feel the emotions that boil beneath his skin. His talk is more strained, his looks more possessive. At the party, his words were cold when he saw Drew's gift for me: a necklace with a blue opal and a card that said only "It matches your eyes." Why can't that freaking idiot just give up? I don't want to let him know... I can't let him know that he makes me like this. He was always so obsessed with winning; this'll just make him think he's so much _better_ and _smarter_ and he'll give me that arrogant, arrogant smirk that always seems to make me cry...

And today, Brendan even asked.

"He still... has feelings for you, doesn't he?"

I glanced up at him from the magazine I was holding. The fear must have shown in my eyes.

"_Do _you have any feelings for him?"

I tossed my magazine aside. Brendan's eyes flickered to my hand and back to find that I had leaned closer.

"Could I?" I whispered. "Could I feel anything for him--" I laid my lips on his, "--when I do this?"

He pulled away from my embrace and straightened, his eyes filled with doubt. Even then, at that moment, I remembered how trusting Drew had always been, how he would have accepted my words without question. Something fluttered, broken-winged, in the air between myself and the one I thought-- no, knew-- was the right one. I wanted that weak thing to live, so I could cling to something other than memories. I gently pushed it foward, looking deep into Brendan's eyes.

"I... I don't know."

The thing that had hovered feebly now fell limply to the ground - and with it, my heart.

I gathered up the remains and left.

It hurt him, I know, but what else could I have done? I felt... I felt betrayed. He simply watched me go, that heartbreaking look in his eyes, when Drew would have--

Who cares what _he_ would have done! I'm sick of him for poisoning my dreams and my wishes and my life. It's not fair, it's just not fair... It's all dying, just because of _him_, just because _he_ watches me, watches my eyes, watches my life and wishes to make it his.

I don't know, I don't think I'll ever know. I know I love Brendan. I know I love that way he always smiles at me, I know I feel my heart beat quickly when he's near me and he kisses me and whispers things in my ears. But Drew is the only one who matters, the one who watches and wastes away, grieving and dying. He breaks himself, piece by piece, over and over, just for me, until there's nothing left. He's always known, but he's helpless to do anything, because I don't love him anymore, do I?


	5. Ears

Ears

* * *

**_Brendan_**

It's funny. I never really knew what color her eyes were until Drew gave her that gift. I've known her for seven months and gazed into those eyes a million times, but I still didn't know... it's just so _funny_. But I've got an excuse: he's known her for seven years to my seven months.

It still makes me burn inside when I see the looks he gives her. I know they had _something_ before I met her, but he has no right to come between us. She's been on edge ever since the party, when he left her that necklace. I haven't seen it since. And then I found him holding her in the hall, and she was crying. It makes me wonder what he's been doing to her all this time that I've pretended not to see. Maybe I should stop being blind. I've been so afraid to confront them about this, but... well, I'm still afraid.

Even so, I asked her. I know, it was an idiotic thing to do, but I had to. I asked if she had any feelings for him, but her answer felt so unclear. It was almost as if she was avoiding the answer. She asked me how much I trusted her, and I said that I didn't know. I still don't know, because she just walked away. And I have the strangest feeling that I just failed another test.

It's almost as if she's only using me to be Drew for her. Whenever she looks at me, she looks through and sees him instead of me. When I hold her just so, it's as if she's imagining that _he's_ holding her. All her time spent with me is spent comparing me to _him_. I'm so sick of it! I can't stand by and watch while she's making herself die just because _he_ still wants her.

Still, I've had my share of doubts. What if she _does_ want him? Does she? Sometimes, sometimes she looks back, and something sparks between them. Then they look away, hiding their faces, hiding their eyes. Is there anything in their eyes? I can't see because I'm outside. They're isolating me, holding me at a distance while they have their silent conversations.

Fear hasn't gripped me in a long time, but it chokes me now. I've always been able to get what I want, but... maybe... May isn't one of them.


	6. Hands

Hands

* * *

**_Drew_**

I couldn't sleep last night. The thought of her tortures me until I can't even breathe... and every image of her is like fresh blood spattered across my mind.

I don't understand it. I don't know why I still love her, even when she's given herself to another. I don't know why she still thinks of me while in his arms, I don't know why I dream of her again and again. Life is no longer a life; instead, it becomes my cage while I try so desperately to still this incessant breathing, this damning heartbeat...

I'm such a hopeless idiot.

She was crying. That's all I can remember, that she was crying and I hated myself at that moment, hated myself for making her cry, hated myself so deeply that I couldn't move until I realized the least I could do for her. All I could do was hold her like I had before, when we had known what we felt and what we wanted. But now I don't know. And she doesn't know. And even Brendan doesn't know.

Now, as I part the curtains on the window, the light seeps in. Into the room, but not into my heart. God, I sound so pathetic. But I can't entertain these kinds of thoughts, because every scar I give myself will only hurt her more.

The clock reads six AM. I get up, I dress. Silently, I open the door and walk out; the corridor is empty. I'm in the Pokemon Center, where everyone is staying for the moment - including her. I can't stay inside. I walk downstairs to the front lobby, then out the automatic doors. The air bites at my skin for a moment while I pull my sweater on, shivering. Clouds drift aimlessly across the sky, as if mirroring my emotions.

"May," I whisper, but no one hears.

Stuffing my hands inside my pockets, I trudge slowly across the street, not wanting to go anywhere and yet not wanting to stay. The roads are silent; a Poochyena trots along, sniffing the ground undisturbedly. I pause to watch it, this small symbol of innocence.

To my surprise, it turns to look at me. I freeze as it slowly makes its way toward me, across the leaf-strewn sidewalk and the cracked cement. Whining, it stops before me and looks up at me with pleading eyes.

"You're so innocent," I murmur. It pushes its head against my hand, trying to sniff it. I try to smile, but I can't. Sighing, I turn back the way I came, leaving the Poochyena to continue on its way. And then I stop, because I can't believe my eyes. May stands at the door of the Pokemon Center, frozen, watching me as I walk toward her, and my heart pounds. She just stands there, watching me, trying not to smile, trying not to cry.

Yesterday's events flash through my mind like an inflamed scar, and I turn away.

"Drew!"

Not again.

May steps out onto the street, first walking, then running across until she reaches my side, panting. My blood pounds in my ears as I watch her regain her breath. "Drew," she says again, and the sound of my name nearly kills me.

"I'm sorry."

She stares at me, then tries to smile. "What are you saying sorry for?" she says weakly.

"Look, I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you," I try to say, my heart weighing like lead, but she shakes her head.

"I'm sorry, too."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about."

"No. I do."

I can't look at her anymore.

She starts again. "Drew, I'm sorry that I never saw... I never saw what you truly thought. Or wanted. And now it's too late to turn back, isn't it? And I don't want to ask you to be 'just friends', because we never were just friends and we never will be." Even though I'm not looking at her, I can hear the tears in her voice. "I was so stupid to think that I would get over you and you would get over me. That was the biggest mistake I ever made. I still want you, and I know Brendan knows and he'll probably never forgive me. And," she brushes away the tears in her eyes, and the sound of her shaky laugh is enough to make my heart rend in two, "I know that your forgiveness is more than I can hope for."

"May," I say, voice choked, but she gathers herself and goes on.

"So now... I just want to say that I'm sorry for everything I did to you, and you don't need to apologize for anything. I was just really stupid, that's all. It was all my fault, you know..."

"No, it wasn't...!"

I'm cut off, because all the while she was talking, she was moving away. She steps off the sidewalk and turns to me again, a smile on her lips, trying not to waver. I turn away, because I can't look. But suddenly a sound blots out the rest of my conciousness, and I look up just in time to see-

"May!" I shout, but it's too late, because there she is, lying on the asphalt, the car screeched to a stop as the driver runs out, and I fall to my knees beside her. She stares at me, eyes glazing over with pain, and I don't know what to do when she faints, because she was the only thing that tied me to sanity. Voices rush over me, loud, familiar voices that I don't recognize, and I know that Brendan is not among them, because he's not here, he's never here for her when she needs him, and then May becomes the only thing in my world as I cry.


	7. Soul

Soul

* * *

**_May_**

When I awake, the room is dark. I frown, because from the other side of the room I feel... someone. A presence, dominating, overpowering.

I try to raise myself up on one arm and succeed only in sending sharp pain lancing through my entire body, leaving me gasping with shock.

"You're not supposed to be moving around for a while."

My face flushes beneath the cover of darkness. _Please, Ho-oh, let him think I'm still asleep,_ I plead silently.

"I know you're not asleep."

I sigh, ignoring his last statement. "Are you going to stay?" I whisper into the darkness.

His eyes glimmer emerald from the shadows, bright and alert as a sable-furred cat's. Slowly, he nods almost imperceptibly. Then a pause. "I'm sorry," he says in a low voice. "I'm sorry for everything I've done to you... and to him." We both know who he means. "I was too stupid to realize the truth."

I bite the inside of my lip, wondering what to say, wondering what to do. "I'll forgive you," I say weakly. It takes another few moments before I can speak again, and in those moments I can feel his tension. "The scars will heal by themselves." He closes his eyes, and I do the same. For a moment, our breathing is the only sound in the room. I finally let the silence wash over me like water...

His eyes open to watch me, and somehow, it doesn't seem as threatening anymore. "Will you really?" he whispers, and I shiver with the intensity of his voice. "Do you really think you can forgive me? If you can't, don't say you will."

Hesitation binds me. I can tell that he's not just asking forgiveness for what just happened; it's every look he's given me for the past seven months. Every darting glance, every furtive look. Every hurt, every scar, every rip of the fragile threads that tie me to Brendan.

And then it all makes frighteningly perfect sense.

"I never loved him. I loved you. But after that day, seven months ago, when we stopped talking to each other, I don't know why anymore, I still wanted you. And I found you in Brendan. I made him into the one who I would look for, the one who made my heart skip a beat every time I saw him, the one who would hold me and kiss me before he left me every night. And he played the part almost to perfection, but... it just wasn't enough for me. And it wasn't enough for you, either."

"No. No, it wasn't," he agrees wryly, a smile in his voice. A thrill runs through me to hear him smile again.

"You haven't smiled in seven months," I murmur.

He seems mildly surprised. "You counted?"

"No. But I haven't seen you smile ever since the first time that Brendan and I..." I stop.

He hesitates. "But I have."

"Not really. Not a real smile. Not one you're not forcing yourself to make."

"So you've been watching, too." Another smile, this time almost amused.

"I guess."

Then we both freeze, because a foreign sound reaches our ears. Footsteps, loud and clear. They stop before the door, hesitating, wondering if I'm all right, wondering if they'll meet Drew. The door moves away noiselessly, and light from outside pools on the linoleum floor.

"May?" he whispers.

The light clicks on, and the scene is illuminated: Drew, sitting across from me in a dark jacket and slacks; me, lying in the hospital bed; and Brendan, startled as a Buneary in headlights, wearing his painstakingly neat coat and a pair of perfectly white tennis shoes. He takes one look at Drew and says somewhat ruefully, "So. You beat me to her."

"I guess." Drew's attitude is cold.

Brendan walks over to me and and takes my hand, face full of guilt. "I just heard about it. You okay?"

"Yes, Brendan." I turn away, blinded by the lights, and he drops my hand in disappointment. What does he want? A hug? With me in this condition?

"Need anything?"

I notice that he's carefully trying not to look at Drew. "No. Nothing _else._" I smile tentatively at the one who sits across the room, but Brendan takes it as encouragement.

"I heard that you'll be able to leave soon," he says, his words empty and meaningless.

"I know, just go away. I need to rest."

Brendan glances at Drew before turning back to me. "What about him?"

"I'm sure he'll make less noise than you. Go."

I turn to look at the wall and hear his unsure footsteps follow him out the door. With one last look, he closes the door behind him, leaving me alone.

That is, with Drew.

"Is it too late?" I whisper to him. "He already suspects... and he's right. Do you think it's too late-"

But Drew simply walks over and sits on the edge of the bed, all the while watching me. His hand reaches out and caresses my cheek, fingers running through the strands of my hair. I sigh in content and grasp his hand in mine.

At last I speak again. "I don't know, Drew; I just don't know what to tell him and how. He's so easily hurt sometimes, and he takes things so personally... I don't want to hurt him, but it seems I have to."

"Don't worry." He leans over me, his eyes pained, and slowly he lowers his lips to mine. His kiss is warm, gentle, as he tries not to hurt me. My hand tangles in his hair, pulling him closer, reminiscent of other times when I have done the same. Drew sighs when we pull apart. "It's been too long," he murmurs, his face pressed to my neck.

"I know."

For a long time we simply lie there, eyes closed.

"When are you going to tell him?" he asks.

"The next time I see him. When he comes up to me, ready to act out his part, wondering if I ever wanted him." A wry smile. "I have to tell him, even if it kills me."

"No."

I glance up at him, puzzled, and I find his face only inches from mine. His breath blows warm on my neck. My heart stops when I look into his eyes, those teasing, glittering emeralds so confident and so sure. A smile curves his mouth as I watch.

Slowly, he kisses my throat, lips grazing my skin. "No," he whispers into my neck. "No. You can't tell him if it kills you."

"Drew!"

"I'm serious." The distance closes between us, until we're pressed closer together than I could ever have imagined. "I'll never forgive you if you die beforeI do," he murmurs as he kisses me again. His hands travel over the thin sheets, pulls them off. I shiver under his touch.

"Drew."

"Is that all you can say?"

I smile. The arrogant Drew is back. "For your information, I'm recovering from being hit by a car."

"Humor me," he chuckled. "It's my turn to have fun. Be quiet."

And I was.


End file.
